Batman: Ascendancy
by WhoThere
Summary: Mob bosses still run Gotham with an iron fist and now large shipments of guns and drugs flood the city with the seller remaining invisible, and to add to the current crisis a familar threat is returning to Gotham under the new gang name of Sanctus. Batman will be pushed to his limits and he will finally show Gotham and himself how far he is willing to go to save the city.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

Deep below the prestigious midnight club known as The Iceberg Lounge, owned by one Oswald Cobblepot, who was also present in this large underground warehouse. It was like a mansion that had sunk underground. No windows were located, only overhead florescent lights that gave off a soft buzzing sound and a blueish tint. Most of the space however was taken up by box stacked upon box reaching almost to the ceiling which caused the lights to be covered, so there was more shadow then light along with cobwebs and dust was everywhere.

Oswald shuffled forwards desperately trying to hide the waddle that had been one of the many reasons he'd been nicknamed The Penguin. A small flightless bird. How he loathed that name, it was bad enough that he was short, stocky and had a hook nose let alone receiving another nickname that surprisingly hadn't been thrown at him during his youth. Everything had, cruel names and fists, but everyone paid their price eventually; one way or another.

He cleared his throat and smiled reviling his crocked yellow teeth. In he placed a cigar and lit it. Oswald breathed out a thick line of relaxing addictive smoke. "So this is who he sent?" He coughed. "Not as impressive as I thought, but that's my job isn't it? It's my job to impress you. Impress your boss."

The man glared at Oswald, he just watched him as his tinted blue glasses reflected the dim light giving his eyes an almost inhuman look. "I'm here to pick up the order Oswald, my father's men will be down here soon. I hope everything's in order." He said with a coldness to his voice.

Oswald gritted his teeth slightly. "Of cause!" He snapped. "Why wouldn't it be? I'm good at my job, my job is important. After all, Alberto, where would your father be without me right now?"

Alberto Falcone smiled. "He would be with another seller. Rat's are always attracted to the sewers, you are nothing special, if not as a mildly bigger rat then the rest. Just because you own a nightclub that all the high society of Gotham attend does not make you a king. You're still a middle man, you buy the weapons from your supplier and sell them to the buyer, which is us. Don't present yourself more then you are. Now I'm going upstairs to enjoy your club and see what all the commotion about it is. Get me when you're done."

Oswald gripped his his walking cane and almost snarled. He could kill him right here. Kill him and then kill the whole Falcone family for the scum they are. Dregs, no matter how they dressed it. You can't hide somethings true nature. Oswald took another puff on his cigar and sighed. "Of course," As he said this the large cargo elevator door opened and out came a dozen burly men in blacks or dark blues ready to shift the merchandise. "Tell your Father that I said his custom is always welcome. Please take the elevator back and enjoy yourself in my Iceberg Lounge. I will find you when your shipment is loaded."

He watched Alberto walked to the elevator which was next to the cargo one that his thugs had come down on. He looked on as the doors closed and imagined the day when he would rule underworld. All he had to do was wait, bide his time and then strike when they were weak. After all, supplying weapons and drugs secretly to each of the three head mob bosses throughout Gotham, eventually they'd tear each other down and then he could strike.

* * *

The city was silent this high up, only the wind could be heard and that was faint tonight. Gotham just seemed silent for once. Unless of cause he was becoming far to used to his it. Commissioner Jim Gordon stood next to a giant flood light that had a symbol of a bat in the middle of it. He watched it shine up into the sky and faintly smiled. It was his weapon against crime. He felt like whenever he shone it someone somewhere suddenly thought "no", and decided to hide instead of commit the crime they planned for.

Fear was an extremely powerful weapon to be used, and it seemed like the only kind that would work against these criminals. _He'd_ taught him that. Not really what you'd call a partner, or a friend, more of a saviour that had picked Gordon to work with. He checked his watch, he'd usually be here by now and it was very rarely he was ever late.

Gordon sighed to himself. "Perhaps not tonight." He turned round to head towards the door back down inside the GCPD building only find him standing there covered in darkness. Almost merging with it.

"You're late." Gordon told him. "Traffic?"

"Something like that." Batman replied gruffly. "I was following a lead on the weapons shipments."

"Did you get anything?" Gordon asked hopefully.

"No, it was another dead end."

Gordon pulled out a file from inside his coat and handed it to the vigilante. "I don't particularly want to add to the bad news but it looks as if the drugs and weapons are from the same seller. We intercepted a small shipment this morning, mainly by luck. Inside where the same type of assault rifles and two crates of cocaine. However before we could do anything with it it blew. Rigged to blow by remote."

"The drivers?" He asked.

"Yeah," Gordon nodded. "We have them downstairs now but they're not saying anything at all, they're being shipped to blackgate in the morning."

"We need to take new measures." Batman insisted.

"What do you mean?"

"We need to intimidate them more. Let them know that this isn't their city. They're spreading like a cancer. Harvey and Black Mask never controlled the whole of Midtown and Downtown before. They muscled out any other gang there before they could even get their footing."

Gordon rubbed his eyes. They ached and burnt from lack of sleep. It felt like he'd been playing this game forever. "How do you suppose we do that. I don't want to unleash a full scale gang war on Gotham. Especially with all their new weapons lately, we wouldn't survive fire from all corners."

"We need to take them down from the inside."

"How do you suppose we do that? We've tried this before and two of my officers got killed. I'm not risking any more of them. Some of them are still new to this remember, I'm still training them up."

"Not your men." Batman said bluntly. "Mine."

* * *

"Soon we move out." A deep dark voice commanded from the shadows. The figure stood in what looked like another underground bunker, a lot like Oswald's but instead of brick there was rock and dust. They were deep below in a hidden cave that was grand in scale. Generator powered lights hung from the ceiling and the side of the rock face. "Soon we will attack Gotham, we will tear it apart from the inside and we will destroy the Bat. I will tear his wings off, unmask him and all of Gotham will see him for what he really is, just a hombre débil. Our plan cannot be broken, we are the harbinger of it's doom and we will rule Gotham and I will destroy the demonio. Sanctus, we are at war! Let our work begin."


	2. One

**O N E**

* * *

Hotel Colombia, owned by Carmine "The Roman" Falcone and located within the centre of Uptown Gotham. The hotel stood tall over most of the buildings in Gotham and gave a tremendous view of the city. This could be seen best in the executive suite on the very top floor. The suite was four of the hotels regular sized rooms put together. Inside sat a king size double bed with dark red drapes, a fifty two inch flat screen TV, a jacuzzi, mini sauna, everything in there reeked of over indulgence and high expense. Within these lavish walls were several of Falcone's men. They all sat round a marble table that had several dozen small bags filled with cocaine spread out upon it. At the head of the table sat Mario Falcone, Carmine's second son. A smug smile covered his face. He felt in control of the situation. He always prided himself on being in charge of the drug flow of Uptown. The other men surrounding him were his dealers, twisted individualise that broke the rule of never take what you sell.

"I want this sold quick." Mario ordered them. "The quicker we sell this the bigger the shipment we can order next time. Go to your favourite customers first, get them to spread the word that you are the guys to come to. I want the whole of Gotham buying from my family. Not Black Mask or Two Face, me. If you don't shift all this within the first month then I will kill you. I will visit you at night and ram what you haven't sold down your throats, and don't think that means you can take the rest for yourself. I'm good with numbers, I'll know whose stolen from me."

The dealers sat solemnly still, there sunken eye's showing fear and in trepidation. They knew that Mario wasn't joking, after all they weren't the first of his dealers. They all could be easily replaced within the day.

"Sell to everybody you can." Mario told them. "The rich, the famous, the desperate. I want the whole of Gotham to cherish a ten dollar bill."

As Mario stood up to hand out the drugs a black figure crashed through the windows hurtling glass everywhere. "Jesus it's the Bat!" He yelled.

Batman grabbed a small circular devise from his belt and pushed it. Everything electronically ran instantly went dead. The room was thrown into darkness. It went deadly quiet, no one breathed a word. They all squinted desperately trying to find the intruder whilst squeezing tightly on their guns and flick knives. It may have still been light outside as the sun slowly begun to set creating a orange hue over the city but it was dark enough in the room for them all to be scared. Mario signalled to the men to spread out and cover each side of the room. As they carried out their orders a sharp scream pierced the air quickly following with a smash of glass. They all jumped in panic and madly looked round. One of them pointed towards the far corner of the room that lead into the on suite bathroom.

"Go!" Mario shouted out and they all ran to the bathroom where once again the black figure jumped out at them, quickly throwing punches and twisting arms which followed with a bone crunching sound all mixed together with a swish of a cape. Just as fast as it had begun it ended with only Mario left standing. Batman grabbed his wrist and twisted it causing him to drop his gun.

"Where are you getting the drugs and weapons?" Batman interrogated.

"I don't know." Mario answered back, his words stumbling out.

"Don't make me drop you." Batman warned whilst dragging him towards the smashed window he'd jumped through earlier.

"Like hell would you'd drop me. You don't kill!"

"I'm starting to re think that policy. In the mean time I can still hurt you, now don't make me ask you again." He snarled.

"I don't know!" Mario shouted back becoming more distressed at his threats. "Only my Father and brother know. Less people that know less chance of anyone talking too much."

"Why should I believe you?" Batman growled violently.

"Ahh," He stuttered. "Because I would tell you. Only my Father's personal bodyguards pick up the shipment. No one else knows!"

He was telling the truth. He didn't know anything. Batman dropped him on the floor just centre meters away from the window. "Tell your Father, I'm watching him." He jumped out the window and opened up his cape which formed into giant bat like wings letting him glide through the city. It was time to head back to Gordon.

"Mario was another dead end." Batman told Gordon on top of the GCPD rooftop.

"How so?"

"Only Falcone, Alberto and a small group of his personal bodyguards know who the dealer is."

Gordon huffed. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "We're running out of leads and time. Gotham is being flooded with all this crap."

"Batman?" A voice said over his in suit radio communication.

"Wait," He told Gordon.

"What is it?"

"Our last chance." He told him. "Report."

"I'm in. You need to make your move now. He's planning something big to happen tonight. His men are muttering it's a gang war with Falcone. Robin out."

"I'm heading over to Sionis Steel Mill. I'm paying Black Mask a visit. Time to step up the levels of intimidation."

And with that Batman once again jumped off the rooftop and glided into the distance down an alleyway where he had parked his car. He climbed into it and sped off to his location. Robin had done well, it had been a month's worth of being undercover but it had paid off. He had successfully infiltrated Black Mask's criminal gang. The plan was to get it, gain trust and then create a back door into the facility. If everything had gone according to plan then the back gates to the Steel Mill would be unlocked. Guard towers offline and electrified fence down. Black Mask had turned his once respectable industry that had been past down to him from his father into a fort. As Batman well knew, paranoia paid off greatly.

This had been his last resort to find out who had been providing the many shipments to each gang. Deep down he knew that pressing each thug for information was wasted time but still needed to be done. Robin had fully agreed to this task. He was the toughest Robin out of all of them. Dick Grayson, the first, had been in it for the fun. Jason Todd just wanted to punish the underworld in anyway possible, full of anger and hatred. But Tim Drake was tough, thought with his head and heart. Willing to put his life on the line for Gotham no matter what. It wouldn't be long until he operated on his own. He is a born leader, an almost perfect Batman.

Tim had gone to great lengths to make sure he wouldn't blow his cover. Shaved head, piercings, tattoo's on his arms that he said he could simply remove them afterwards via laser treatment. He'd created a whole new persona under to name of John White. Thanks to the help of computer hacking John White had a record which consisted of Assault, Drunk Driving, Possession of Drugs and Joy Riding. Also to gain more notoriety he'd joined a cage fighting club. Anything to get the job done.

Batman decided to proceed on foot for the next few hundred yards. He remained in the shadows on the rooftops. Eventually he arrived at Sionis Steel Mill, still staying on the rooftops he proceeded to navigate his way to the back of the mill. The two search towers were dark and by the looks of things he'd managed not to trigger several hidden alarms, also the large steel gate was open a jar with a brick placed to stop it from closing. Batman glided down to find four guards knocked out and hidden in the darkness. The perfect solider.

Within the mill Black Mask stood in his office at a large set of one way windows. He looked out at his men below who went about their business. It was a gloomy and surprisingly dank room for an office and extremely basic with a rotting desk, a shelf full of folders and bits of strewn paper across the floor. His fearsome masked face looked like something that belonged in a horror movie or your deepest darkest nightmares. He slowly reached for the intercom button on his desk. As he pressed it a loud crackling noise filled the facility. Various thugs looked up at the speakers expectantly. "Men, I promised you blood. I promised you a chance of taking on The Roman Empire. This city belongs to us, we will control the underworld of Gotham, not some portentous deluded old man that belongs in the fifties with gangsters. We have been preparing for this for months and now it's our time to strike. Now it's our time to attack, commence the operation. Everyone-" A piercing screech cut off his sentence and then silence. The men looked around confused and expectant not knowing what to do. One man in particular looked at the speakers through suspecting eyes. Something was not right.

"How the hell did you get in?" Black Mask shouted whilst his head was held down against his desk by Batman.

"I want to know who your supplier is?"

"I'm not giving that up!" Black Mask managed to kick his chair away from the desk and slip his arm out so he could elbow Batman in the face which caused him to stumble back.

Black Mask advanced on him further throwing a punch that connected with his jaw, a sharp quick kick to his side then following with another punch but Batman deflected it away and followed with heavy kick to his gut. Black Mask stumbled backwards breathless, sharp pains shooting through him. Struggling to catch his breath he leapt towards Batman once again. Fists clenched ready to strike but Batman brought up both his arms slamming his elbows one by one into the side of Black Mask's head. He grasped it and pressed his head against the table once again but with a heavier thud. "Call your men off, now!" Batman roared.

"Go to hell!"

Batman raised his fist and punched downwards with great force on to his shoulder. The bone dislocate from it's socket. Black Mask grunted in agony as Batman brought the microphone closer to him and switched it on. There was a moments silence as he considered whether to comply or not. "The attack is cancelled. Return to your assigned duties."

"Now tell me, who is your supplier, otherwise I'll break your shoulder this time." He threatened whilst switching the microphone off and throwing it across the room.

"Ah dammit! It's Cobblepot, runs it via his club." He spat reluctantly.

Just as Black Mask finished what he said his second hand man burst through the doors. There he stood with a gun pointed directly at Batman. His cold blue eyes transfixed on him, his pale skin reflecting any amount of light. He smiled devilishly reviling pointed teeth and gum line due to his missing lips. His name was Warren White, earned the nickname White Shark due to his appearance. Even went as far as to cut "gills" into the side of his neck to further enforce the idea.

Batman pulled out a batarang and threw it towards White Shark's gun, it embedded itself into his hand. This was his cue to pounce. Batman ran towards the man and unleashed a quick chop to the side of his neck. He felt the soft flesh along with a few muscles buckle under the pressure causing damage to his windpipe. He then spun his whole body around and clenched his right hand into a fist which connected with the side of White Shark's face. He was injured but not down yet. He grabbed Batman's head and pulled it closer to his razor sharp teeth. His breath reeked of musty cigarettes and alcohol.

Once again Batman curled his hand into a fist and heavily struck against his diaphragm. This would cause him to momentarily lose control as he tried to gasp for breath. It was enough time for Batman to wrap his arm over the back of his neck and whack his head into the nearby wall. White Shark fell down to the floor in a crumpled heap. Batman stood still for a second, he was hardly out of breath. He just stared at both of the criminals, wondering when Gotham fell to all this madness. It felt so long ago now, like this fight had been happening for decades.

Batman headed towards the exit, which was the same he'd got in. His next stop would be The Iceberg Lounge. Oswald Cobblepot had arrived in Gotham a year ago. He was the long lost heir to the Cobblepot fortune, another wealthy family much like the Wayne's. He decided build a nightclub called The Iceberg Lounge where the high and mighty of society could wine and dine. Oswald had said repeatedly that that's where the money was. But now it seemed that there was an alterer motive behind it. In hind sight it was the perfect cover. No one would question it's revenue stream if there were occasional blips of increased income, he could simply fix the numbers. Also they could launder the dirty money through the Lounge as well. It was the perfect cover.

At the First National Bank of Gotham it had been a slow day. Although for Donald Reed it seemed like everyday had been a slow day lately. He looked at his beat up watch, which always amazed him that how much money the bank had with it's walls and how little pay he got. It was close to closing time thankfully, not that it would make any difference really. He would still have to get up the next day and resume the same boring job. He headed slowly towards his office, not that you could call it that, it was more like someone had shoved him into the corner. Everything in there had been compressed. A small desk, small filling cabinet, even small flowers to try and brighten the place up. He pressed a key on his computer and the machine came to life. Donald squinted at the bright screen as he checked his e-mails to see if any announcements had been made by the powers that be. This was a occasional ritual for him to check his e-mails before he left, he had got it into his head that one day he'd receive an email saying how valued he is as a member of staff and that they had decided to give him a pay rise or a promotion for his constant hard work and dedication. Yeah right, no one noticed him there. He scrolled through the e-mails to find no such message, as per usual. However one message in particular however caught his attention. It was from someone called Tom Swenson, the subject read Surprise, old friend. Spam never made it to his account; or anybodies here at the bank. In fact all spam was immediately deleted by a security setting loaded on to all computers. It was bank policy. He couldn't recall knowing anyone by that name or having them in his address book and how would they get his work address? Donald sat there tapping his finger on the table, he knew he should delete it. Probably a glitch in the server or a joke from someone there; but eventually curiosity overpowered his sense of wariness and he clicked to open it. Only one word was inside the e-mail. Sanctus.

Oswald sat in his dimmed office looking over a variety of papers. The overhead lights he had gave off a dark blue tint which sunk into the midnight purple carpet. On the right side of the wall sat a large built in fish tank, within were a variety of expensive and colourful looking fish swimming around large models of Penguins. The papers Oswald were looking over had various numbers occasionally marked with a dollar sign. A greedy smile crept across his face and his eyes widened in glee. His business was running smoothly, more then smoothly in fact. More money was being made every week, it just kept rising. The Iceberg Lounge seemed to be the hottest tick in town. He grabbed his glass filled with brandy and slurped on it whilst relaxing back in his soft padded chair. The faint sound of pulsating music could be heard from the nightclub section of his Lounge located on the right. It was the left section that had the gourmet food on offer. This world of his he had constructed was perfect. The older and more mature crowd would flock to his restaurant to eat and marvel at his entertainment whilst the young and energetic crowd dance wildly to the dark pulsating music and flashing lights. Just like moths to a flame. He had no idea how his world was about to come crashing down around his pointed ears.

Two black gauntleted hands reached out from the darkness behind his chair and spun it around. A swift booted foot then lashed out from shadows kicking the wheeled chair against the large oak desk. Oswald breathed heavily, his heart pounded hard against his rib cage as if it was trying crack each rib and escape which increased his shaking. A horned figure leant forward from the darkness. He looked like a demonic devil beast that had been sent straight from the depths of hell.

"The weapons you're selling, whose your supplier?" Batman asked. His voice sounded so calm but with a twisted darkness to it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, this is a-" Oswald began to say but was cut off mid sentence by Batman grabbing his collar violently.

"I know it's you who are selling the weapons. I also know you don't just sell to one customer but all of them. You think they don't know this? Word will get out that you're now compromised. They will find you. It's just a matter of time as to who will get to you first."

"They won't find me!" Oswald snapped, now losing his usually calm and sophisticated manor. "I will destroy them! I own Gotham's fire power and if any of them try anything I'll gun the bastards down in their sleep!" He screamed defensively.

Batman threw him against the wall. His face twisted in pain as his head struck against the solid surface. "I'm not going to kill you if you don't tell me where you got the weapons and drugs from, but I will tell your friends where you've run too. You can't hide from me."

"I don't know who he is." Oswald said knowing that he had lost. "I've never met with him, he got in contact with me over the phone and even then the person who I was talking to sounded like he was only repeating something he'd been told. "I order more and it gets delivered to Pier 93."

Batman grabbed Oswald again. "You must know more then that?" He said gritting his teeth growing more frustrated. This was where the seller would be named and his city could be free of the guns and drugs, this was not meant to be another dead end.

"I don't know! I can't trace his number, He didn't even give a false name, nothing!"

Batman dragged him back to his desk and slammed his against it next to the piles of paper and a laptop that looked as if it had been built into it. "Order more!"

"It's too soon!" Oswald mumbled trying to turn his face to the side so he could speak. "I ordered last week, no chance in hell would I have shifted all of them and like you said, people will know I'm compromised. He'll know too. Someone like him would know. You don't sell that kind of high quantity weapons and drugs without having feelers to keep an eye on the buyer.

"People like you would know that, wouldn't they?" Batman hissed through gritted teeth.

"I'm a businessmen man." Oswald spat back. "It's my job to-"

"You're criminal scum who prays on the weak and desperate. The guns and drugs you sell end up on the streets which is the reason why Gotham is a sewer of injustice."

Oswald begun to laugh uncontrollably, flecks of spit flew out as he did this. "Listen to the words coming out of your mouth. They almost sound like you're trying to save the city. For a moment there you sounded like one of the good guys. You really think you're saving this city? You add to it's misery and pain."

Batman struck the back of Oswald's head with the side of his arm. He went limp and slid to the floor unconsciously like a slug. He felt his hands shaking and the blood pumping through his system violently. No one had the right to say he wasn't helping the city, least of all scum like him. Batman had dedicated years to this cause, the cause of fighting the war on crime. Gotham will be saved, one day it would emerge into the light, no matter what the cost would be to him.

"Batman?" An elderly voice said over his in suit radio.

"What is it?" He replied back solemnly.

"We have a crisis on our hands, The First National Bank has exploded." Alfred told him. "Miss Gordon is compiling information and Tim is heading back to the cave from there now."

An instant thought of how many died crossed his mind straight away. The screams of more innocents. "I'll meet you back there." He replied.

The Cave was located underground, inside was a culmination of flowing water, jagged rock and highly advanced technology. Batman pulled his cowl down to revile and tired and pale looking Bruce Wayne. Lights had been built in to the floor so the walkways where always lit but the ceiling was covered in darkness which gave it that never ending look. The cave was a strange mix of old and new. The old being the stalactites and stalagmites jutting out from every angle possible and occasional streams of water gushing out. The new was the technology located in the cave. Most of it being more advanced then what the Marines or Navy would have.

The always faithful Butler of Bruce Wayne sat at the large main computer in the centre of the cave. Next to him Tim standing with his arms folded still in half his Robin costume which was a mixture, much like Batman's, of armor and a form of tightly weaved kevlar created by Wayne Enterprises R&D department that increased resistance to close combat fighting, most knives and even bullets from a far enough distance whilst providing the wearer with maximum movement.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, no longer maintaining the dark tone that Batman had. When ever the mask came off it was like he instantly dropped character.

"The bank has been wiped out completely." Tim told him. "I couldn't find much when I got there, the police were all over it. However looking at the wreckage I'd saying it was a controlled explosion." As he explained this he pressed a button on the keyboard that caused a small 3D model of the bank pop up on another of the many screens that created this super computer. "Nothing else was purposely damaged within the radios bar a few cars from falling derbri. This was done by someone with extensive knowledge on demolition. I bet you that when you ask Gordon about this he will say that the bombs were planted here, here and here." He said pointing the various key points on the screen.

"I ran a trace of known detonation experts within the Gotham area." Alfred said. "Ten came back, however, two are deceased, five are currently fighting in Iraq, two are currently under mental observation at Arkham and the last was recently relocated to Metropolis Penitentiary."

"What has Barbara come back with?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing yet, she'll send it to us shortly."

Bruce looked at the computer screens silently. He racked his brain trying to think who could have done this. Oswald was out of the question along with all the mob bosses. It was there that their money was held in the name of what ever business they owned. Due to it being in their business name and no solid links to their underworld activities the GCPD couldn't impound it. Perhaps it would be an idea to wait and see what they find, their money would be lost and they wouldn't let that go lightly. A loud binging noise echoed through the cave, Alfred clicked on a small icon and Barbara's face appeared on the screen.

"I thought I should tell you this in person. Right before the bank exploded a virus hit it's mainframe. It was in an e-mail sent to one Donald Reed, who was caught in the blast, from a Tom Swenson. I've checked the name and it came back with no results."

"What about outside Gotham?" Bruce asked.

"Several matches but it wouldn't have been them. However I got lucky and there was just enough information left for me to trace it to the senders location. It was within Two-Face's hideout."

"Why would he destroy a bank? There's no duality to that." Tim stated.

"It also appears that the accounts have been changed or deleted. I checked my account with them then the three of yours. Money has been transferred back and forth, chunks of payments missing. Then the whole system went offline and my computer nearly had a fit. It seems that the virus is still in the system, despite the fact it's been blown to hell."

"What's happening with money then?" Tim questioned her. "Everything that's currency in Gotham runs through there."

"The Mayor said he's going to announce a plan and everyone should remain calm. That's all I know at the moment."

Bruce pulled down his mask and headed towards his armored black car again. "Tim, find Gordon and see what he knows. I'm going to visit Harvey. Barbara I need to you find out everything you can about who Oswald Cobblepot got the weapons off. Trace every purchase he's made within the year. I'm betting he has several accounts around the world."

"I'll try the usual places then. Barbara out."

"Master Bruce," Alfred called out whilst Batman got into the car. "Remember this isn't Harvey Dent any more. That man is dead now, you did your best to save him but some people are far too gone into the darkness to see the light on the other side."

"What's your point?" Batman asked bluntly.

"My point is that I know why you didn't press information out him, or why you didn't send Master Drake undercover into his criminal organization, why you've been avoiding him for months. You still feel responsible for him when it wasn't your fault."

Batman didn't reply, he started up the engine, it roared loudly like several lions trapped under the bonnet and sped off down to the exit of the cave. Alfred's words spun round in his head, unable to shake them off. He was right. He still did blame himself for not being able to protect Harvey when it mattered the most. He was a hugely important part in saving Gotham along with Gordon. But instead Harvey turned into what he had been fighting so fiercely to destroy. He was now just another monster in the darkness, forever lost.


End file.
